Chance
by beautiful innuendo
Summary: Ginny takes a chance. LM/GW


"He's been asking about you again."

I let the dish I was rinsing fall into the sink and suds lapped over the side and down the front of the cabinet.

I scowled.

"Seriously, Ginny, its not a big deal. You know he's changed."

"Yeah, since he found God, right?"

"What?" Hermione asked, looking up from her tea cup.

"Just skip it," I replied.

"You have a nice house, now. You could have him over."

"I'm sure he wants so see my dinky little place."

"You don't give him enough credit."

"Besides, he's—"

Hermione cut me off, "He's not too old for you. He's a year younger than Remus."

"Remus was too old for me. _Is _too old for me."

"But the point is, you dated him," she countered, going to the corner to open up one of my moving boxes. She pulled out a dinner plate and set it aside before continuing. "And you're two years older than when you dated Remus."

"There's still nineteen years between us. He's over forty."

"Gins, he turned forty-one last month. That's not so old. And you're six years over the age of majority, last I checked."

"Almost seven."

"Semantics. Listen, though. I like him. I think he's changed a lot. I mean a lot."

"You do remember he tried to kill me."

"Well he didn't succeed, did he?"

I glared.

"You know he actually wouldn't have. Killed you, that is. From what Snape said _six years ago_ he's been on our side for what now, more than ten years?"

"And first year?"

"How do you even know who I'm talking about? I just said _he _was asking about you. It could have been anyone. It could have been Merlin."

Fine. Lucius Malfoy has been asking after you again."

"And you want me to go out with him?"

Hermione sighed and started on the next box labeled: silverware.

"Well, do you?"

I took her teacup and banished the dregs.

"I think…" she trailed.

"Come now, Hermione. You're vouching for this man."

"Yes. I want you to go on a date with Lucius."

"And where would we go? I'm hardly unpacked, I couldn't have him here. And I'm not going to that goddess forsaken manor of his."

"I'm encouraging you, not acting as a date liason."

"You tell me to do it and I'll do it."

"Ginny-"

"No, Mione. If you- as my friend- tell me you think I should go out on a date with a _death eater_, I will."

"Do you not have a sense of repentance? Can people change and be sorry for what they did?"

"I do, but its-"

"Look. He's been on the side of light for eleven years. _Harry _trusts him. _Hagrid _trusts him. Your _Mum_ is cooking for him now. I think he might get a sweater this year."

I charmed the scrub brush in the sink under my breath and it sped to life.

"Well, Ginny, I'm glad to see that you are settling in nicely. I do like the house, very much. Thanks for the tea. I'm sorry to bring up Lucius."

She gathered her cloak and bag from beside the back door, which was next to the stairs here in the kitchen.

"I'm sure you'll be very happy here, alone, on Saturday nights."

"I have loads of unpacking to do still," I replied defiantly.

"Well, if you should decide to grace Lucius with your presence, though I don't know why he would want to, here is his owl address."

She scribbled on a piece of parchment for a moment.

"Mione…"

"No, it's all right, Ginny. I just thought you would finally be a bit more open minded."

"Hermione-"

"I'll see you later. Ron mentioned something about meeting up at the bar for the Cannons-Harpies game. If you are interested the game starts at five."

She opened the door and sent a little bolt of blue light at the parchment on the table. It gave a little flutter and quieted.

She closed the door behind her after giving me a parting smirk.

I went to the table immediately after she had apparated from sight. I had inherited the table from the Order and it fit twelve people easily with its leaves and two long benches. At least twenty could fit if they were all friends. I once saw twenty-four.

I looked closer at the page. It was in Lucuis' hand- I assume- and there, in light grey ink was written:

Lucius Malfoy, currently residing at number 63 Churchill Street, London requests your company this evening at the eight o'clock dinner seating at Avalon.

And in Hermione's writing in a bold red was this;

Damned well better be there.


End file.
